The Sailor and The Soldier
by river1983
Summary: Sherlock, Captain of the SS Victorian, sets foot on a journey to find an unknown island with his loyal crew. Along the way, he meets a soldier, John, who stumbles into his life with a hole in his shoulder. Follow him as he slowly falls in love with this soldier through their adventure, wounds and all. Pirate!AU, johnlock. First time doing an AU, so criticism is welcome!
1. Chapter 1

**The Sailor and The Soldier**

 **Disclaimer: Sherlock BBC and its characters are not mine.**

 **Chapter 1**

Sherlock stood at the mast of his beloved ship, the _SS Victorian._ His crew was below, working the sails, steering the ship, doing their jobs. They had been sailing for quite some time, in search for land. They weren't necessarily running from something, but rather liked to live off the sea.

Sherlock's chocolate curls peaked out from underneath his rather large tricorn. His white shirt was enveloped in his leather trench coat, brimmed with gold. Dark brown pants were tucked into his worn boots, which were belted on. His sword was sheathed to his side and his revolver strapped to his waist. He could only be described as powerful as he stood at the mast now.

Sherlock, in all his glory, looked out on the shimmering water with his spyglass telescope, foot against the railing, as his crew worked. After the failed attempt at finding a speck of land, Sherlock pocketed his spyglass inside his coat and came down from the mast.

"Lestrade, set a course for these coordinates. We've been sailing this way too long, it's time to find a different route." He said to one of his loyal crew, Greg Lestrade, one he's known for most of his life.

Lestrade nodded before screaming the order to the rest of the crew. Sherlock headed down to his cabin. He sat at his makeshift desk, staring at his map. They had been sailing northeast for miles, no sign of land. He had told Lestrade to change direction, straight north, to see if any land would appear. His map was all he had, but it wasn't much. A great portion of it had been ripped during a storm, of no use to the captain.

After a few hours of sailing, Lestrade came into Sherlock's cabin without knocking.

"Lestrade! What would be so urgent that you come bursting through my door?"

"There's a boat. There seems to be a man stranded, passed out. Should we bring him onboard?"

Sherlock thought for a moment. "Yes, bring him onboard. We shall see what we will do with him afterwards."

With that, Sherlock followed Lestrade up to the deck as the rest of the crew pulled the man aboard. Sherlock walked over to the unconscious figure, looking him over.

The man had on a white undershirt, tucked into his camo pants. His matching jacket was long gone. His pants were then tucked into his combat boots. His blonde hair was closely cropped, standard military haircut. All his clothes were soaking wet, saying he hadn't been on that boat at first, but had climbed into it later after floating adrift. Couldn't have been there long. He was obviously a soldier, and based off the direction he was coming from, he fought in Afghanistan. Has a limp, with the cane on the deck and the way his leg was laying. Severely dehydrated and malnourished, and…

"Seriously? No one noticed the bullet wound in his shoulder? Get him to sick bay immediately! Call Hooper, he needs attention immediately. Meanwhile, wake up the night shift, you all need sleep. Tell them to search his boat for supplies or anything of importance. Please tell my brother to meet me in my cabin, Lestrade."

With that, his crew got to work, and Sherlock went back down to his cabin to think. Soon after, Mycroft arrived at his cabin, sitting across from Sherlock.

"Brother mine, what do you deduce of this...soldier fellow?" Sherlock asked. He needs a second opinion, and to his disgust, Mycroft was the best choice. Lestrade could be...slow at times.

"Couldn't tell, hmm? Slow as always, brother dear. No wonder I'm the smart one."

Sherlock gritted his teeth. "Of course I deduced it, _brother dear_. I simply needed a second opinion."

"Obviously a military man. Has a sibling that has a drinking problem, according to his phone, which was surprisingly on him. Has a limp, psychosomatic. PTSD, with the way he clenches his fist, even as he is passed out. The water got rid of most of the data, so that's all I have on him."

Sherlock nodded stiffly, angry that he missed the specifics of his limp, and the phone.

"What should we do with him?"

Mycroft shrugs. "Once he wakes up, question him. Could be of use to us on this idiotic ship."

Sherlock rolls his eyes. "Why'd you agree to come if it was so idiotic?"

"I didn't want you to hurt yourself. Or go back to….your old habits."

Sherlock scoffed. "I'll be fine. I don't need drugs, the sea is all I need."

Mycroft just nodded and left. Sherlock sat, legs crossed on his desk, hands together to think. He would take Mycroft's advice (to his dismay) and question the soldier once he woke up and was well enough to be questioned. Sherlock stood up, leaving his cabin to check on the night crew, putting the military man out of his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Sailor and The Soldier**

 **Disclaimer: Sherlock BBC and its characters are not mine.**

 **Chapter 2**

It had been roughly 3 days, still on the same course they had been on since they found the army man. Sherlock was standing by his bedside, waiting for him to wake up. Hooper said he should be waking up today. They were able to stabilize the man and fix the wound in his shoulder. The man laid stoic, probably used to the barracks. His muscles were tense, due to his PTSD, most likely enduring a nightmare. Sherlock just watched him as the veins in his neck popped out. He had been so focused on this that he hadn't noticed the soldier's eyes open.

"Where the hell am I?"

Sherlock removed his gaze from the man's neck, looking the man in the eye.

"Who the hell are _you?_ Is this a bloody pirate ship?"

The man made a move to get off the bed, immediately regretting it as he gritted his teeth and laid back down.

"This damned shoulder-"

"I wouldn't recommend trying to get up or escape, mate. I have an entire crew on deck." Sherlock said to the man.

The man looked up at him, confused. He had light blue eyes, specks of brown thrown in also. "Who are you?"

"Besides apart of the people who saved your life, I am Captain Sherlock Holmes of this vessel, _SS Victorian_." Sherlock retorted, putting his foot on the chair rather than sitting in it. "What is your name, soldier?"

"J-John." The man-John, stuttered. "John Watson. Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers, Three years in Afghanistan, a veteran of Kandahar, Helmand and St. Bart's hospital."

Sherlock put his hands together. "St. Bart's...explains the accent. You're British."

"So, John. What were you doing on a boat in the middle of nowhere?"

"I was shot while trying to help my friend from a gunshot wound to the chest. I had passed out, so I'm not sure how I ended up floating in the sea. I saw a boat a few yards away when I first woke up, and swam towards it. Kinda hard when you have a hole in your shoulder."

John sat up with difficulty, rubbing his bandaged shoulder. "What are you doing out here, Captain?"

"I've always been drawn to the sea. My crew and I are looking for an island, not yet found by any captain or crew. I reckon we're going to be the first ones." Sherlock told the John. Why had he told him?

"Seems interesting. Mind if I join your crew?"

Sherlock looked at John, astonished. "Really?"

"Why not? I have nothing else to do, and I personally wouldn't mind being apart of a history-making crew."

Sherlock huffed. "That's not what everyone else said when I set off on this journey."

John looked at him, licking his lips. "What did they say?"

Sherlock grinned mischievously. "You're insane."

John laughed. It was a nice laugh. "I tend to like insane."

Sherlock blushed slightly. He wondered what was to come with this soldier fellow.

 **SH JW SH JW SH JW**

Once John's shoulder got well enough, he started helping around on the ship. He would mostly work in sick bay, but occasionally joined Sherlock in plotting courses and looking for land on the mast.

In the 3 weeks John has been here, Sherlock had felt more comfortable than he should have next to the soldier, working with him and telling him his plans. He noticed more than he usually would about John, and that worried him. He was never this open about his plans, even with Lestrade. But John...there was something about him that just attracted Sherlock. Mycroft would eye him whenever he would be next to John, but he ignored it.

John and Sherlock were up on the mast, plotting a course with what was left of the map. They and been going this way steadily for 3 weeks, but Sherlock had a good feeling about this direction. His gut was almost never wrong, he wasn't going to stop trusting it now.

"If we go this way steadily for maybe a week or so, we should be able to see a small glimpse of an island. Not sure if it would be the island you're looking for, but it could be." John said to Sherlock, looking at the map. He was trying to remember his military training, memorizing maps and such. His shoulder was okay. His limp was gone since coming onboard and working with Sherlock. Working on the _SS Victorian_ had cured him of his disability. His PTSD dreams haunted him still at night.

Sherlock was staring at John, nodding his head as he talked. John was smarter than he looked. He looked like an average, mid-30 year old man, yet he was everything but. He had interesting qualities, and his features were attractive. Sherlock, realizing what he just thought, shook his head. He had sworn off all forms of attraction, besides the company of friends. Caring was not an advantage, so Sherlock wanted no part of it.

"Alright, I need to help Hooper in sick bay, you'll be staying up here?" John asked him, turning towards him. His eyes focused on Sherlock's face, making his face go slightly red.

"Yes, I'll be up here."

"Alright then, mate." As John went down to the deck then to sick bay, Sherlock kept thinking about him. He'd never met anyone like John, no one as interesting. Lestrade was too normal, a good friend but nothing too interesting. Mycroft was...well, Mycroft. Anything but ordinary, but not in the way John was. John was...different.

Sherlock shook the thoughts out of his head, as he had work to attend to on deck.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Sailor and The Soldier**

 **Disclaimer; Sherlock BBC and its characters are not mine.**

 **Chapter 3**

It was the middle of the night shift a week later, and Sherlock couldn't sleep. They should have seen a small glimpse of an island by now, but so far nothing could be seen, even with his spyglass. He was getting frustrated after staring at his map for the majority of the day. He now paced the floor of his cabin, trying to determine how long he and his crew would sail until they changed direction. It was dangerous, travelling like this. They could run out of supplies at any second, and be stranded out in the middle of the ocean.

As he paced, his mind shifted to thinking about John. He had spent more time with John than he had with anyone else, typically on the mast. Sometimes they discussed the map and direction, but mostly they just talked. About anything. John never told him his plans were insane, like almost every crew member did after they joined, even Lestrade. John seemed to _want_ to be there. John was interesting despite being so...normal. He liked Sherlock's company, and Sherlock liked his.

Sherlock now went up to the deck, not being able to stand the suffocating walls of his cabin. He climbed the mast and was surprised to see John there, staring out onto the sea.

"John?" Sherlock called, standing next to the soldier.

John turned his head, wiping the tears from his face quickly, not wanting Sherlock to see. "Oh, hey Sherlock. I was just...looking."

"You were crying." Sherlock noted. Why did he point it out? He never pointed things like that out.

"It's nothing."

"You can tell me." Why did he care so much?

"It's just…" John started, leaning against the railing. "My friend, the one who I tried to save. He's probably dead. Countless people, dead at my hands. It was just a dream, but…" his breath hitched. "I couldn't sleep any longer, I needed to think."

He turns to Sherlock. "What about you? Why are you up at this hour?"

Sherlock looked towards the rolling waves. "I also needed to think. I needed to be in open air. I come here to think often."

John nods in understanding. "It's a peaceful place."

They watched the sun come up from the mast, marveling at its beauty. Sherlock had seen the sunrise from here many times, but it never ceased to amaze him.

"I thought you didn't care much about-"

"That doesn't mean I can't appreciate it." Sherlock stared at the sun as it lit the sky, not noticing the ship coming towards them.

"Sherlock." John says worriedly.

When Sherlock doesn't answer, John shakes his arm. "Sherlock!"

"What?"

"Look."

Sherlock looked down to see a ship coming towards them. Sherlock gasped when he realized what ship it was.

The _Morietur._

Sherlock immediately climbed down the mast, John following him. "Men! Arm the cannons! Get ready to fight!" Sherlock yelled.

"Why?" Anderson, the most annoying crew member, asked. "Why should we-"

"Just do it!" Sherlock screamed in his face. His coat whisked behind him as he got to the hull, ordering the crew member there to go faster.

John finally caught up to Sherlock. "Sherlock? Who is that?"

Sherlock looked at John intensely. "Moriarty."

 **SH JW SH JW SH JW**

As the ship pulled closer, Sherlock noticed they they, too, was ready to fire their cannons.

"Hello, Sherlock!" Moriarty called, with his second-in-command, Sebastian Moran, at his side. "Miss me?"

"This is impossible," Sherlock murmured as John still contemplated why this Moriarty guy was so dangerous. "He should be dead."

"You're the one to talk." Moriarty said. John eyed Sherlock, but didn't say anything. "Here's what's going to happen, Sherly. You will walk the plank, _correctly_ this time, or your crew and beloved soldier will die."

On cue, Moran pulled out his gun and his crew aimed their cannons at the _SS Victorian_.

"What about an old fashioned fight? Our ship against yours."

Moriarty laughed. "Fine, Sherlock Holmes. If that's what will get you into the sea."

With that, his men fired onto the deck. Multiple crew members fell, and one went overboard. "Get ready to fire!" Sherlock screamed. Crew at the ready, Sherlock signalled them to fire on Moriarty's ship.

The cannons boomed as the ammo made contact with the ship, blowing it somewhat backwards. Moriarty didn't even flinch. His crew stumbled, but none abandoned their posts. The _Morietur_ got close enough to the _SS Victorian_ for some crew members to climb aboard.

"John! Do you have your gun?" Sherlock asked quickly, drawing his own pistol and sword.

John nodded, pulling his out as well.

"Crew! Draw your weapons and get ready to fight!"

With that, Moriarty's crew and Sherlock's dueled.

John squared off with Moran, who was firing from his boat. John got his arm and injured Moran, rendering him powerless for at least a few minutes. He picked up a fallen sword and started fighting some of Moriarty's crew members, adapting to the scene quickly. Sherlock admired him for a second before Moriarty came into view.

"Ah, Sherlock. Here we are. The final problem." Moriarty yelled over the noise.

"Let's solve it, then." Sherlock responded, and raised his sword.

Moriarty struck first, and was easily blocked by the other captain. Sherlock swung his leg to trip Moriarty, causing him to fall. He then swiped at Sherlock's leg, cutting his trousers and skin. Sherlock gritted his teeth in pain as he swiped at Moriarty's arm, just barely missing.

Their duel continued as both crew's fought, and Sherlock failed to notice after a few moments that his crew was being tied up, one by one, including John and Lestrade.

"Sherlock!" Moriarty bellowed, ceasing his fighting.

With the pause, Sherlock noticed all his crew members, tied up.

"Release them." Sherlock demanded.

"I would, I could, and I should, but….no." Moriarty chuckled. He pointed his weapon towards the plank. "Walk the plank, your crew lives. Don't, they die, including John."

Sherlock blew air out of his nostrils in frustration. He had no choice.

"Mind the gap!" Moriarty sang teasingly.

He looked towards the slabs of wood, attached to the ship but the end right over the ocean. He started towards it.

"No, Sherlock!" John screamed. He squirmed against his bonds.

"I have to, John."

He stepped out onto the plank, and turned around. Looking Moriarty in the eye.

Then he fell.

 **Sorry, the fight scene is rubbish. This chapter was a bit hard to write, but I hope you guys like it.**


	4. Chapter 4

**The Sailor and The Soldier**

 **A/N: I've had a bit of writer's block, so I'm sorry for the late update.**

 **Disclaimer: Sherlock BBC and its characters are not mine.**

 **Chapter 4**

" _SHERLOCK!" John screamed._

 _Sherlock fell forward and plunged into the deep blue sea. John had finally escaped from his bonds and ran to the edge of boat, looking for the_ _Captain._

 _He found nothing._

 _Moriarty signaled his men to untie the rest of the crew, who were just sitting there in silence, hanging their heads. Lestrade stared at the ground as his bounds were loosened, but not moving from his position._

" _Well boys, this has been fun," Moriarty said as his men made his way back to their ship. "Happy sailing!"_ _He came up to John, who glared at him and reached for his pistol. Upon remembering it was confiscated, he let his hand drop._

" _Catch you later, John Watson." Moriarty whispered to the ex-soldier, winking as he stepped aboard his ship._

 **SH JW SH JW SH JW**

John stood at the mast while the night shift worked the ship. It had been 6 months since Sherlock had walked the plank. Lestrade was in charge now, and he continued the mission his captain had wished to accomplish.

They were on the right course. They had found the name of the island, Sherrinford, and were able to plot coordinates. John estimated they would arrive in 5-7 days.

As John leaned against the railing, he thought about the conversations he and Sherlock had above the ship, looking out over the sea. John sighed. He had thought about telling Sherlock how he felt up on the mast, how he felt since he had woken up in sick bay after his crew pulled him from his drifting boat, wounded and crippled.

He would never have that chance now.

Lestrade had ordered the crew to look for their former captain for the first month, but they had found nothing. So, Lestrade thought the best way to honor his death was by finishing his mission-find the island.

Lestrade and John became friends as the 6 months went on, often talking about how to plot their course and reading the map. They talked about what the would do when they got to the island.

"Probably mostly explore. Write down what we find, bring it back to England so they can add it to the maps," Lestrade had said down in Sherlock's old cabin. "We'd probably have to make a home out of it for a few months, but the reward for the information is tremendous."

John knew for a fact Sherlock never cared about the money, he just wanted to be the first one to find the island.

" _I just love the sea. It's one of the few things that I find interesting in this dull world. Why not try and find an unmapped island? Gives me something to do."_

He recalled Sherlock saying that, and his smirk faltered.

Sherlock would never find the island now.

 **SH JW SH JW SH JW**

"Land! I see land!" John yelled from the mast, using a spyglass to spot the splotch of Sherrinford.

"About 2 leagues North!"

The crew cheered and John smiled, sliding down the mast as the ship turned slightly, following the direction he gave. He met up with Lestrade on the deck, who gave him a weary smile.

"If only Sherlock could see us now."

 **SH JW SH JW SH JW**

Sherrinford was a large island. It was very flat, very few mountains and caves.

"The government could build a facility here." Mycroft said when they first came ashore. Mycroft was a part of the British Government, who took a leave of absence to see how this could benefit the government.

John rolled his eyes and continued to look around. There were quite a few trees, bunches of them laying before them. There were few mountains in the distance, almost like it was splitting the island in two.

Lestrade got everyone's attention. "Alright! We made it, but we have work to do. Morning shift, gather the supplies we packed from the sip and bring them here. Sort them out. Night shift, look for fruit or any source of food. Make sure to remember where you are and how to get back, don't want to lose any crew members. Get to work!"As the crew started working, Lestrade and John grabbed a blank map and started venturing around the island, drawing and writing down notes for later. John sketched and Lestrade pointed out possible dangers and interesting features. The had went through a portion of the island's 'forest', emerging out the other side, greeted with a beach. The two decided to take a quick break, sitting down and facing the water.

"What do you think Sherlock would have thought of this place?" John asked. The grey-haired man beside him.

"Actually, I think he would believe it was dull. Knowing him, he would've expected a volcano or something."The two chuckled for a bit before noticing a figure floating in the water, swimming towards the shore. They exchanged a glance as the got up and went a bit closer to examine the figure.

The man in the water had tattered clothes and was bleeding profusely as he dragged himself on shore, coughing up water. Lestrade and John saw this and ran to help the man. He looked up from his spot on the shore, and muttered something before collapsing. Lestrade caught him before his face hit the sand and turned him over, his eyes widening after realizing who it was.

Once John reached the man and saw his face, his jaw dropped in surprise.

" _Sherlock!?_ "

 **This chapter is kind of weird lol I'm sorry it took so long to write but I'm kind of running out of ideas? There will probably be 1-2 chapters left of this story, I'm not sure yet. Also it was kind of short so I apologize for that also.**


	5. Chapter 5

**The Sailor and the Soldier**

 **Summary: Sherlock, Captain of the SS Victorian, sets foot on a journey to find an unknown island with his loyal crew. Along the way, he meets a soldier, John, who stumbles into his life with a hole in his shoulder. Follow him as he slowly falls in love with this soldier through their adventure, wounds and all.**

 **A/N: IM SO SORRY! I haven't did anything with this for like half a year im so sorry. I'm trying to get more of a schedule in terms of creating stories, so I had an idea. Read my bio! It has all the info about my idea...I hope to hear from some of you guys! :) I'm really sorry again.**

 **Chapter 5**

John snapped out of his daze to check Sherlock's pulse. The Captain had a deep scar that looked infected running down his leg, and was shivering. His pulse was steady, but not as strong as he'd like.

"Jo-ohn?" Sherlock muttered, trying to open his eyes.

"Keep your eyes closed, Sherlock. I've got you, okay? Christ, Sherlock. Why'd you jump?" He couldn't help but asking as he took off his jacket to wrap it around Sherlock's leg.

"…"

"John," Lestrade said, moving to the side where Sherlock's head is. "We need to get him to the ship, to sick bay. Can you get his legs? I don't want to make things worse."

John nodded. "Of course."

Together they picked Sherlock up, Sherlock groaning in pain. It broke John's heart. They tried to move as fast as possible without hurting Sherlock, but it still took an hour and a half (presumably) to get back to the ship. The other crew members, excluding Mycroft, stared at them as they got on the ship, like they couldn't believe Sherlock was back (which of course, was understandable.).

They got him settled in sick bay so John could properly examine his wounds.

"I'm going to answer their questions as best as I can...come get me if you need anything, or for an update."

"Alright."

Lestrade left and John got to work.

He unwrapped his jacket from around Sherlock's wound. It definitely was infected. He got some disinfectant and gently started to clean his wound. Sherlock hissed in pain, gritting his teeth.

"Sorry."

He continued to clean the wound, then wrapped it in gauze. He tended to smaller minor cuts then checked his pulse. Steady strong, but he was a little cold. He got up to go get a blanket.

He draped it over Sherlock's skinny frame, then sat next to his bed, staring at him.

"How are you alive?"

Sherlock looked away. "Honestly, I don't know. I...wasn't planning on surviving."

John felt a lump in his throat. He swallowed it and coughed. "Sherlock…"

He looked back up, staring at John with his beautiful multicolored eyes. "Once I realized I wasn't dead, I thought of you. You kept me from dying, John. when you first came on this boat, I knew you were different. More in tune with the world around you. Smarter. Interesting. It intrigued me. You...you're magnificent. You're a doctor, a soldier, and you've captured the attention of someone as cold-hearted as me. I...I love you."

John paused for a bit, than smiled. "I love you too, you git."

Sherlock eyed him. "You...you do?"

"How can I not? You're probably the most intelligent person I've ever met, you're dashing, challenging, headstrong...just because you're not as outright with emotions doesn't mean you're cold-hearted, Sherlock."

John didn't even notice himself leaning down and how close they were until he felt Sherlock's lips on his own. It was hesitant, but full of emotion. John brought his hand to Sherlock's cheek, kissing him deeply before breaking apart for air.

Sherlock's face was all red and flushed, which John found adorable. He kissed Sherlock on the forehead and smiled. "Get some rest-I need to talk to Lestrade."

He started out the door before Sherlock called out to him again.

"John!"

He turned.

"Thank you."

John smiled. "No, Sherlock-thank _you_."

 **SH JW SH JW SH JW SH JW**

 _ ***3 months later***_

After 3 months of exploring, drawing, and searching, the crew had made a semi-accurate map of the island. Mycroft looked over it and gave it the final nod, so they were off once again towards home.

Sherlock was fully healed from the incident with Moriarty, fully returned with his dominating aura. He and John were officially together, but not too outspoken about it.

It was the night shift, 2 weeks after leaving the island. John and Sherlock were on the balcony, John leaning into Sherlock's chest.

"We'll be home in approximately another 9 days." Sherlock says. Now that he knew the route, it would take much less time to get back than it did getting there.

John had been thinking about when they got home. Would they continue this? What did Sherlock do other than this? Would he have to return to the army?

"John? What's wrong? You're frown lines are appearing."

The Captain turned towards the (ex?) soldier, an expectant look in his eyes.

"I was just thinking," John starts. "What're we going to do once we get the map to the Government? Are we going to continue...us? Do I have to go back to the army? I just...I don't know."

"I was actually wondering…" Sherlock states. "If you'd live with me?"

John was taken aback. "What?" He wheezed.

"I was wondering If you'd want to live with me." The captain states again, as nonchalantly as the first time. "It's a nice little place. I know the landlady, owes me a favor. Because of your injury the army presumes you are dead, and when they find out otherwise you'll be dispatched anyway. You'll need a place to live, so why not with me?"

John had to admit-he had a point. "Do you even do anything besides this? Have a job?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Of course I have a job. I'm a detective for the Scotland Yard. Granted, I do more sailing than solving crimes, but it keeps me from boredom. Lestrade is the DI. He was allowed on this trip because they thought it'd be good to have an officer on board, the idiots. I don't mind him much, but the police are all idiots."

John smiled as he rolled his eyes. Sherlock took his hands. "So, will you move in with me?"

John looked up at SHerlock, who's eyes twinkled with slight nervousness. "Yeah, Sherlock. I'll live with you."

"Excellent!" Sherlock kissed him lightly on the mouth before hugging him. John laughed.

What an adventure this will be.

 **Woo! Got the chapter done! Sorry for the wait again...I kinda suck lmao. There will be an Epilogue after this then that'll be it! If you want more johnlock or anything really, read my bio! Thanks again guys for reading, I appreciate it so much.**


End file.
